POWER DRESSING
Thu 29 Sep
Words Emma Davidson
In the thick of the chaos that permeated 2020, as lockdowns across the world lifted (albeit momentarily), much fanfare was made of the ‘new normal’. With masks strapped to faces on buses and trains, COVID tests stocked up and stacked high in cupboards, and pubs, clubs, and bars taking things al fresco, attention simultaneously turned to clothes: exactly what were we going to wear as we re-emerged into the world after such a long and comfortable stretch in loungewear?
Soon after, the trend reports and think pieces about post-pandemic dressing began infiltrating the timeline, as editors scrambled to predict what would come next. As we peeled off our stretched-out hoodies and shimmied out of our sweatpants, now was the time, they declared, to truly start dressing again. Glossy pages were either filled with glittering sequins, plumes of ostrich feathers, and strappy, barely-there sandals, as the roaring 20s 2.0 kicked into gear, or otherwise proclaimed a ‘return’ to the kind of power dressing that defined the 1980s, via bitchy, bold-shouldered suits, slick tailored trousers, and severe, vertiginous stilettos.
In theory, the predictions made sense. Both the 1920s and the 1980s were periods of financial, political, and sociological turmoil, with a devastating recession looming large over the prohibition era, and global leaders Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher ushering in the rampant capitalism and individualism now ingrained in our culture. Though parallels between then and our current reality are crystal clear, the way we dress has changed significantly. In 2022, ‘power dressing’ could just as likely entail sloping to the office in a baggy, bolshy, logo-adorned tracksuit (perhaps by Balenciaga or Martine Rose) as it might a waist-cinching, pagoda-shoulder suit served up with a pair of towering ‘bitch’ heels, à la Saint Laurent.
With power dressing intrinsically linked to office life and the ascent up the corporate ladder, historically women had to emulate men to fight their way to the top – or, at least, attempt to keep up with them – in the workplace. This meant toning down their femininity and amping up their silhouette to resemble that of a man’s – hence the broadening of the shoulders, the narrowing of the hips, and the added height. And while the ways of dressing to appear or feel powerful have shapeshifted and expanded far beyond these limiting parameters, there is a particularly heavy punch packed by this aesthetic even now.
Though the idea of power dressing has shifted, the exploration of power and its dynamics continues to enthrall and inspire a new wave of rising designers. One of the buzziest brands on the Paris Fashion Week schedule is Coperni, helmed by Sébastien Meyer and Arnaud Vaillant. At Coperni, tailoring comes clean and contemporary, with subtle flourishes of sensuality: boxy blazers bear peek-a-boo panels at the shoulder, revealing flashes of décolletage, while mini pinafores and skirts are shrunk to near belt-like proportions, with sharp lines softened through a palette of bubblegum pink and candy banana yellow. The ‘new’ power dressing embraces sexuality rather than obscures it – because in our post-#MeToo, post-Trump era, to take full control of one’s body and identity is perhaps the most powerful thing of all.
Meyer and Vaillant’s signature egg-shaped tote completes the picture at Coperni, with the two designers demonstrating their own power as new generation purveyors of immediately recognisable It-bags. The design was first imagined by frequent Coperni collaborator Abraham Ortuño Perez, who previously worked with Simon Porte Jacquemus and Paco Rabanne, before branching out on his own and founding namesake label, Abra. Like the Coperni duo, Perez subverts femininity through his offbeat designs – his pithy, postmodern workwear riffs on the corporate aesthetic of the 1980s, injecting it with a heady dose of humour. Past offerings have seen him turn out oversized, mensy shirts rendered loose and languid in garish shades of hot fuschia and acid yellow, while his covetable mini bags and boots come trimmed with rows of fierce silver studs – a very literal, violent demonstration of what it means to hold power.
In refusing to shrink themselves, women take back power, too. Veronica Leoni’s Quira is less about overt sexuality and more a quiet sophistication. Blazers are boxy and broad, trousers and long and loose, pooling over shoes and gathering on the ground. Hips are accentuated via blown-up pencil skirts, while, at the softer end of the scale, ballooning blouses with bell sleeves obscure the shape of the body altogether. That Leoni worked under Phoebe Philo at Céline is clear, with the designer continuing her legacy as a woman who understands what women want from their wardrobe.
Now, however, the biggest power move when it comes to fashion is our ability to express ourselves. As we move into a post-trend era, when trends are forged in days across social media and finished with just a few short weeks later, there is currency in dressing for oneself. Power is no longer an aesthetic, but a mood and a feeling. Whether turning up to the office in an oversized hoodie and XXL 90s denim jeans, or serving corporate realness in a snatched suit and tie, power, like luxury, is individual to all. In 2022, true potency comes from authenticity and an unequivocal conviction in one’s identity.